180 degrees

"180 degrees"

lines

straight and curly

scribbling

lists of lists

hearts

check. boxes.

reflections

panic

wish


sunlight moves

a symphony

of gentle arm hairs

kiss the warm spring breeze

my thighs pulse

with life and death

drained

and motivated

all at once


i came here

to be alone

plotting

planning

to be seen

to be heard


i sink

into the edge

of the faded, brick red bench

one foot grounded

the damp earth

holds firm


noise noise noise

quiet quiet quiet


piercing neon green

three pieces of trash

movement in the water

rippling, whispering glass

twisted roots

stretching upward

curling into themselves

out of themselves


i squint

crunch my shoulders

up then down

a frown

that feels serene


wind comes in

satisfaction

at its edge

the world is noisy,

pained and sick

am i allowed

to be here?


crunch

dance

ground

fly

mr. cummings,

you have my eye


3/17/2024

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